A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. "Here!" shrieked Lady Trafford.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 10-09-2024 16:40:29
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